


primed

by fastandfilthy (IndridGrey)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Childhood Sexual Abuse, Cum feeding, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Episode: s01e01 Pilot (Supernatural), Extremely Underage, M/M, good thing I don't believe in hell, rapist pov, sam is 6 months old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndridGrey/pseuds/fastandfilthy
Summary: Azazel's not leaving anything to chance.
Relationships: Azazel/Lucifer (Supernatural), Azazel/Sam Winchester
Kudos: 40





	primed

**Author's Note:**

> I stumbled on the tail end of a discord convo and read something out of context and here I am. I take full responsibility.

Azazel smiled down into the crib at his master's True Vessel. So long in the making, so much run around making back-ups, but the kid was finally here and ready for Baby's First Step Towards Destiny. A couple of the other kids he'd visited hadn't taken so kindly to his gift. Azazel wasn't going to take any chances on the initiation not sticking with this one. Time to till the soil.

The side panel of the crib slid down easy and the infant didn't fuss as he pulled it closer. It was dressed in a soft onesie, cozy and warm under Azazel's fingers, thought to be safe with the warding. Poor Mary Winchester had no idea what she'd agreed to. All the better for him.

The fly was quick work and he shivered as he took hold of his meatsuit's stiff prick and started jacking.

The plans that Azazel had! To be united with his master, to feel the unbridled power as he rose, to usher in a new era, to bask in the cold light this tiny, oh-so-fragile boy was going to be home to. Azazel would make sure of that; it was a glorious mission and he planned to relish every moment, savor every triumph along the way.

The baby was wide awake and gurgled when he pulled it closer again. He absently stroked over the silky brown hair as he maneuvered so the tip of his prick could rest against the tiny open mouth. The boy turned away--not fussing yet and hopefully not about to start. True Vessel though it may be, Azazel wouldn't hesitate to seize up the child's vocal chords or lungs if it meant achieving his goal. The boy was more receptive the second time and even tried to root, much to Azazel's delight.

"What a good little boy," he whispered deathly quiet, almost lost under the noise of the TV downstairs through the open nursery door.

The clumsy, instinctive attempts at suction helped Azazel along and it only took moments before he had to aim carefully to ensure his cum spilled into the waiting mouth. The baby coughed lightly at the sudden spurts but didn't spit it up. Azazel tucked himself back in as he watched the series of swallows. 

"Attaboy, drink your milk."

He leaned close and checked the boy's mouth for any lingering traces. The skin of its cheek was smooth, hot, and slick with its own saliva and Azazel found himself nuzzling against it slightly. This was the last time he would see his master's Vessel so open and vulnerable, so exploitable. He could already smell the taint of his violation paving a rock solid foundation of corruption for his blood to latch onto. Azazel laid a kiss against tiny spit-slick lips. Not to serve any plan, but on the heady fantasy that the boy's body may remember it, that his master would inherit it when the time finally came. The moment was so close Azazel could taste it on the Vessel's tongue. So close, but patience.

Azazel pulled back, all business again, put the child back in its original position, raised the crib panel, and sliced his meatsuit.

All the desecration the infant had just gone through and it wasn't until the blood fell in and on its mouth that it started fussing. How lovely.

There was a gasp behind him--poor Mary Winchester finally finding out what she'd signed up for. He could hardly risk her undoing all his hard work, now, could he?

Azazel smiled down into the crib at his master's True Vessel sobbing as its mother bled out on the ceiling, as its father bounded up the stairs already years too late to save anyone.

"It's been fun, kid. See you in a few years."

And he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(• ▽ •;)_/¯


End file.
